


All That Did Matter

by Akifall



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Post-Episode: s08e05 The Bells, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akifall/pseuds/Akifall
Summary: Jaime is found walking alone, close to death.He fades in and out of life- barely alive.All he knows now is his own name and the memory of blue eyes- like sapphires,- gleaming back at him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HEY YO *Fred the fish meme* Well I'm done with being depressed (okay I'm lying) and decided to write a three-chapter piece on the classic trope amnesia- so prepare yourself because Imma bout to cram so much Braime in this fic. 
> 
> For context- in this fic- Jaime lived while Cersei did not. I tried to write it with time-skips because Jaime keeps fading in and out and I didn't want to keep him in one place for too long.

There's a nameless man walking along the beach, blood spilling from his sides and a vacant expression on his face.

He's hobbling, barely able to walk, there isn't any sign of his right hand and the left hangs limply at his side. 

His feet sink deeper into the sand with each step he takes, inevitably he topples over and lays there, blinking a few times and breathing thinly.

He's going to die soon if he doesn't get any help.

From the distance, the man makes out a dragon blowing fire into screeching streets- a slash of silver floating amidst the smoke-stricken sky. 

He manages to turn himself away and stares out into the ocean instead. This isn't much better. 

Corpses and wood dot the ocean.  
Sinking boats alight with fire and bodies tossed between the waves. 

But a single boat is indeed sailing towards him. Upon that boat is- are a short man and a balding one.

When the boat reaches the bank the short man tosses himself off without a second thought- his small legs carrying him as fast as they could. 

He can hear a name being screamed at him, but he doesn't recognize it.  
"JAIME!" The man cries before turning back to boat "SER DAVOS!" The small man is shouting as he drops to his knees in front of him and forcefully pushes him onto his side. 

The hand is reaching for one of his bleeding sides and he lets out a grunt as there's pressured applied to it. 

"He won't survive Tyrion." Ser Davos says. 

"Are you forgetting that Ser Jaime survived the long night! Help me." The other man bends down and checks the other wound. 

Jaime watches the sky dim around him as he blissfully falls into what he hopes eternal sleep.  
-

The pain he feels when he wakes up is unbearable. 

Jaime is pushing against the restraining hands and screaming in pain- his body feels scorched inside and out- and he wishes for death more dearly than anything.

The first time he's offered milk of the poppy he spits it back out and cries when the pains flare up in his side again. 

"He's torn them fucking open!" A rough voice grunts and for some reason the voice grates on Jaime. 

"Move aside." A woman snaps and at once the hands are removed from his chest.

Jaime instantly tries to sit back up but one hand comes down and keeps him pinned firmly. The voice that follows brings him to rest, however.

"Relax Jaime." Is all she says, and he does so, laying back down like an obedient dog.

The rest of them are silent as she lifts the new vial to his lips and this time he drinks it and swallows without a second thought.

Her other hand is blissfully cold on his cheek and Jaime nuzzles into it and listens to her breathing as he begins to fall into another deep sleep.

He dreams of blue eyes, his only clue to a past life.  
-

He wakes up next in a bed and place he's unfamiliar with. 

Multiple layers of wolf fur cover him but Jaime is still unbelievably cold. It's the first time he's opened his eyes since that day on the beach. 

Jaime finds that can't see out of one of his eyes and he quickly finds that the top right of his face is obscured by leather.  
Lifting it slightly doesn't do anything for his vision, instead, he feels scars and flayed skin where his eye should be. 

He lets his hand fall and glances around at his surroundings. 

The room is tiny, barely enough to fit in the bed. It's unfurnished otherwise and dark, the fireplace is burning, the barely lit flame is his only company.

By the bed is a footstall and on the floor below it are apple peelings- fresh in places and rotten in others.  
The small window is bolted shut, but he can feel the winter breeze more strongly than the heat. 

Jaime finally decides to climb out of the bed and drapes the furs around his shoulders for extra warmth. His sides ache slightly, but when he checks he finds only scars where there had once been holes.

He tries the floor once with his foot to see if he can support his own weight, but once he feels confident enough to try standing, he topples straight over and slams his head against the footstool.  
The sound of several objects being dropped and rolling around comes just before the door slammed open and a pair of hands were pulling him back into bed. 

Jaime let out a snarl as the person tries to rip the furs off his shoulders. 

But he froze when the woman snapped her head around and glared at him with the most beautiful blue eyes. 

She was a beast of a woman, taller than most with hair the color of straw, her face was not a stranger to scars and her nose had certainly been broken several times. But for some reason, Jaime felt his heart flutter at the sight of her- confusion clouding his mind. 

"You cannot walk yet, your legs need quite a bit of healing before you can leave." She bit out before placing the fruit on the end of his bed.

"In a fortnight- then you can leave for good." She snapped, turning towards the door again.

Jaime leaped across the bed and grabbed ahold of the sleeve of her tunic.

"Wait!" He cried. When she turned he could see the sadness in her eyes, his heart lurched and he felt sick to know he put it there.

"Who are you?" He asked.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You jest-"She started but something in his gaze made her hesitate. 

"You truly don't know who I am?" She asked instead.

"In truth? I don't even know how I came to be. You called me Jaime... but I do not have a name for you." 

The woman seemed to hesitate and for a moment it looked as though she might tell him. 

"What can you remember?" She asked instead to Jaime's disappointment. 

Jaime leaned back against the pillow, thinking carefully on his words.

"The silver tail in the sky, the dragon as black as smoke- blood running into the ocean and-" Jaime stroked her arm idly, eye flickering up to hers with a look of careful consideration. "Eyes like sapphires." 

The woman's shoulders sunk- and after a moment she carefully pulled away from him. 

Jaime let his hand stay up for a moment, his gaze searched for hers and silence fell between them.

"It's Ser Lady Tarth." She said finally before she broke his gaze and took her leave.  
-


	2. Chapter 2

The people in Winterfell seemed to hate him. 

When Jaime had presented himself to the Stark siblings and been given the name Jaime Hill, he could hear the sniggers and taunts.

Tyrion had looked like he wanted to protest, but the stern redhead's word was final.

Jaime assumed at some point he must have been of high rank because he was certain everyone knew who he was.

The men he worked alongside with certainly knew who he was anyway. 

They mocked him as he tried to shovel as much horse-shit as he could with one hand, while. the lords above hacked spit in his direction, one woman even tried to empty her piss pot on top of him but he managed to avoid it. 

His only joy came in the early mornings when he would catch a glimpse of Ser Lady Tarth train alongside her squire. 

Jaime allowed himself these few minutes to simply watch the woman dance gracefully with her weapons while her squire did his best to simply follow her movements. 

By the end of the first month, he was so used to this new life that it just became part of his routine. 

One day that all changed, Jaime had handed over his soup bowl like any other day but once it was in his hands it was slapped from his grip. 

The broth spilled all over the ground and Jaime stared at it mournfully for a moment.  
This wasn't the first time this had happened, but it hadn't happened for quite some time. 

He learned that retaliating only made his life more difficult and caused problems further down the line.  
Which was why it surprised him when he realized that it was Ser Lady Tarth that had slapped the bowl from his hands. 

For a moment dread stirred in his stomach, he hadn't done anything to offend her surely? 

But then she passed by him, anger evident on her face as she put herself in front of Jaime.

"I find myself famished. Give me the exact same serving you just gave this man." She demanded. 

The server's face began to drain of color but he did as he was told, generously overfilling a new bowl and lavishing the sides with two bread rolls. 

Once the broth was in her grasp though, she handed it to Jaime without another word and then turned again to the man. 

"I'm sorry, I did say the exact same serving did I not?" She snapped. 

"My lady..." The server tried but his protests died the moment he saw the guards- and then without another word, he pushed over the giant pot of stew and tried to make a break for it.  
But she was much faster and simply side-stepped and swung her fist into his gut, causing him to topple over with a cry.   
She hadn't spared him another glance once she took the man into her custody- but she did put her hand on his shoulder and command him to 'eat' the untainted meal she had gifted him.  
For some reason the thought of someone wanting to murder him didn't seem like a foreign thing- it even felt somewhat familiar not that he took any comfort in the idea. 

He made sure to chase even the smallest of drops with the bread roll and savored the warmth in his stomach.

Jaime felt good. He still ached from all the wounds he sustained after weeks of torment- and he knew that most likely he'd be blamed for many hungry stomachs tonight- but quite honestly- none of that ruined how happy Jaime felt tonight, because today had verified something that made his heart soar.

She cared for him. 

Perhaps it wasn't in the way that his heart yearned for her. But it was certainly something. 

Jaime knew nothing about his previous life before that day on the beach, and despite people wanting him to live- he had a feeling that a lot more people would be happier if he were dead.   
Which was a shame really because Jaime didn't quite feel like dying anytime soon, especially not now.   
-

When the guard came for him several nights later, Jaime knew that something was about to change. 

He was lead into the great hall again looking considerably a lot rattier compared to the lords and ladies of Winterfell- the mud all over him could laughingly be considered armor at this point. 

The long table consisted of just two people this time, Lord Tyrion and Lady Stark. 

Lady's Stark didn't seem to notice or care at all for his presentation, instead opting to read several scrolls without looking up for the moment. 

Lord Tyrion on the other-hand looked hurt, his eyes unable to leave Jaime's state- but as Lady Stark stood to her feet- he like the others stood up. 

"It has come to my attention that someone attempted to take your life?" Sansa asked, eyes pinning him down coldly. 

"Yes my lady," Jaime said bending his head to her.

Sansa's eyes flickered behind him for a moment, her bottom lip furled beneath her lower lip as though she was considering something. 

After a short peroid, she turned her gaze back onto Jaime. 

"Lady Tarth?" She spoke. Jaime could hear movement from his right and cursed his damn sight for not realizing she was there. 

"Yes, my lady?" The knight asked- and Jaime couldn't help but admire her.

"What are your thoughts on having another Squire?"


End file.
